


A Reflection Of A Star

by AxeMeAboutAxinomancy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2627933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy/pseuds/AxeMeAboutAxinomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The back seat of your car still smells like angel sex, Dean."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reflection Of A Star

"Hey Cas. Tell me something. Did any of the angels used to be human?"

"I don't understand," said Castiel, but he said that a lot.

"Nah," Dean said. "You wouldn't." This was why the demon side was winning, he thought. Souls were currency on both sides, but the angels didn't seem to understand that souls were _people_.

Until they weren't.

"See, it seems like all the demons I've ever met, Lucifer being the one big exception, they started out human. Even the ones… the ones in charge of Hell. Even Crowley's just a Scotsman who grew horns and changed his accent. But the angels? You talk about things you saw thousands of years ago. You've always been an angel, right? Are all of them like you - as old as you?"

Castiel frowned and took what felt like ages to answer. Dean tried to hold his impatience back, like a dog straining the leash.

"There are angels older than me, and younger. But I haven't always been an angel."

Now that was a genuine surprise.

"What do you mean? _Were_ you human?"

"No, I'd never been human till recently."

Blood pressure rising. "Well what were you then?"

"I was…" Castiel's hands scooped uselessly at the air. "I was - a thought. An idea. A glimmer of light on the surface of the water. A reflection of a star." He looked up at Dean.

And Dean was in that rare state of having absolutely nothing to say. It was as airy-fairy as a poem and at the same time, it was an obvious truth that couldn't have been put any other way. _A reflection of a star._ Well, of course he was.

"And then I was an angel. Then I was human. And now, an angel again." He looked unhappy though, and Dean thought he knew why.

"How's the grace holding up?" and from the look on Castiel's face, they might have been having a Very Special Episode talk about erectile dysfunction.

"It's fine," as flatly as anyone lying about their health and wishing to evade further questions. Dean knew Cas was lying but unlike with Sam, he couldn't tell how _much_ Cas was lying.

"Do you miss your wings?" He'd never even seen them - only their shadow, a few times.

"Of _course_ I miss my f- " and he stopped short because of what he'd been about to say. Dean could tell what it was from the shape his mouth had frozen in, bottom lip tucked under teeth.

"Say it, go on," he urged.

"My _fucking_ wings, Dean." Cas looked as unhappy as Dean had ever seen him.

"Sorry," Dean said. "Course you do, what the hell else could you have said. Sorry I reminded you."

"I never forget." Castiel moved one shoulder in an abstract shrug and shook his head once.

"You didn't answer my question, though. Were any of the angels human before they were angels?"

"I don't know," said Cas.

"Well, that's an answer," said Dean.

Castiel said, "Why do you ask?"

"I dunno. Just wondered. There's a bunch of stuff I would've asked a long time ago if you stuck around more. I'd always be taking a breath to ask you something and whoosh, you'd be gone."

"Well I can't whoosh anymore," snappish now.

"No, I know. Crap, I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep bringing that up."

Cas turned away, and sat down on the end of one of the beds. He looked tired suddenly, and Dean was alarmed.

"Hey. You okay?"

Cas sighed. "I am… fatigued. You asked how my grace is holding up. It's running out, because it isn't mine."

"Then we need to get yours back. We'll make Metatron give it back."

"Dean, when have you ever done a spell and still had the ingredients you used left over at the end?"

Dean didn't have to think it over. "Never," he admitted. Anything that might be left in a cauldron or a crucible would be ash or fragments. Nothing recognizable.

Castiel just looked sadly up at him and said, "I might have lived a human lifespan of reasonable length, if I hadn't murdered another angel for his grace. Now I can never go back to human. When this grace is gone, I'll die."

"Not if we find you some more first."

"Please, Dean. I don't want that. I am... _done_ with killing angels."

"Well, I'm not," said Dean, darkly.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Cas sighed.

Dean had been poised to argue with him some more, but he hesitated. "You really look like crap. Maybe you should lie down."

"I've told you. I don't sleep."

"Can't hurt you to rest. You know… marshal your strength. Sam won't be back till tomorrow. Take his bed."

Dean thought Cas might have continued to refuse if he hadn't been recently human. But he stopped arguing. He took his coat off before lying down, though he kept everything else on, including his shoes. Watching him take the trenchcoat off made Dean feel like he was peeping through a keyhole at a girl with old-fashioned stockings on, and he cleared his throat and turned away while Castiel lay down on the other bed.

Dean bounced down onto his own bed and turned off the light before pulling off his shoes and lying down. He hadn't slept in a while, and there was no more good he could do at the research until Sam got back.

"Dean?" Cas said quietly from the other side of the room.

"Hmm?" He was turned away on his side, hugging the pillow against his head with one arm, and the voice seemed to come from far away.

"I'm sorry for swearing at you earlier."

Dean rolled onto his back and laughed out into the darkness of the room. It felt good, just to laugh. A relief. Like how a sneeze or a burp felt good - because they needed to happen.

"Don't be sorry. I was being an asshole. You can swear at me all you want."

"I don't generally want to."

"Well, that's good. But when you feel like you want to, Cas, you can just swear away, okay?"

"Okay."

There was quiet for a little bit, long enough that Dean had almost drifted off when he heard his name again.

"Dean?"

"What."

"I'm tired. And I'm scared. And all of my thoughts are consumed with one irrational wish."

"What's that?"

"I wish I had been able to inhabit a different vessel. A - female vessel."

This startling remark woke Dean to an upright position. "Why?" he asked, though in his heart he knew why. Half of him wanted to stall this talk. The other half really, really wanted to hear it, and that half was braver in darkness.

"I was... jealous of Anna. And I failed to protect her."

"Of _Anna?"_

"The back seat of your car still smells like angel sex, Dean."

"Holy crap, that was _years_ ago." Dean had never heard the words 'angel' and 'sex' put together that way before, and spoken as they were by Castiel they would have put a shiver up Dean's spine - if he weren't busy being horrified by the thought of Baby being… stained.

"Yes."

"Ah, man. That's - I did not know that."

"If she had taken this vessel, and I hers, you might have been able to love me," said Castiel.

Dean stared in the direction of the other bed. And once again, he had not one thing to say. The thing with Anna… it had been the end of the line for her, or so they thought then. And now here was Cas, maybe going to die, maybe for real this time.

And anyway, were all angels so _stupid?_ Or was it just this one?

Dean let out an explosive sigh, briefly hung his head, then shook it. He got up from his bed and crossed the dark space in between.

"Move over," said Dean.

"To… the other bed…?"

 _"No,_ dumbass. Just - " reaching out to poke blindly, and finding Castiel's ribs - "move over enough for me to lie down."

"Oh," in a shocked tone that made Dean wish he could see the look on his face, and then there was rustling and Dean found room to lie down.

With _Cas_.

Well, hell, it wasn't like he'd really never thought about it. But Dean didn't think about stuff like that full on. He only ever got little glimpses, like light through the blinds. He'd only have a sideways little thought that was easy to shrug off and forget.

He lay down, and they were side by side on the bed. It was just big enough for them to do that without touching, if they kept their arms straight down at their sides.

Cas said, "Dean? Should - " and this time, Dean didn't feel like waiting around to hear the question. He turned onto his side, toward Cas, and put his arm over. Cas was tense as a mannequin.

"Turn on your side," Dean told him. "With your back to me."

Slowly Cas obeyed and then, just like that, they were spooning. Dean as big spoon had his arm around, with his hand resting on Cas' shoulder, and they fit so perfectly. His armful of angel was warm and, if not relaxed, was at least compliant. How did he smell so good when he never changed his clothes?

He said, "I dunno what you're expecting, but this is all I've got in mind right now."

"Okay," said Castiel, and then, "It's nice. Thank you."

"Welcome," said Dean, then rested his head down, trying to get comfortable enough to drop into sleep. But Cas was still tense, almost trembling. Dean sighed, turned his head and said right next to Cas' ear,

 _"You_ don't need any other vessel."

Cas caught his breath, and after a long moment let it out again, relaxing at last. He touched Dean's hand where it loosely gripped his shoulder. Dean turned his head and brushed his lips against the back of Castiel's neck.

Then he dozed for a little while. He didn't know if Cas would sleep too, but rest and comfort was surely the best way for both of them to pass the hours.

And damn, but Cas smelled good.

***

When they were younger, when Sam was very young, Sam had had nightmares sometimes and the two of them had slept like this. Dean had slept holding him like that, the big spoon, hand on the shoulder, like he was the safety restraint in the scary amusement park ride of Sam's nightmare.

They hadn't done that for many years, though more than once Dean lay awake in his bed and listened to Sammy thrashing and muttering in the other bed and wondered, Would it help if he tried it now? But it was too weird now they were grown.

Cas was like a child in some ways, and this was one of them. He twitched, and muttered, having a troubled dream in the sleep he claimed not to need. Dean tightened his arm and murmured, "Shh. You're okay. I got you."

This didn't seem to help though. The twitching turned into thrashing, and then all the muscles in Castiel's body seemed to go rigid. "Dean!" he gasped.

"What, what is it? What's - "

Cas writhed in his arms, turning around and clamping his arms round Dean's waist, his face jammed hard into Dean's chest. He was shaking, but when he spoke there were no tears in his voice.

"I'm going to die, Dean - when I close my eyes and start to fall asleep I feel as though I'm dying now, and I know - I feel in the very center of my being, I will not come back this time. The Highest is done with me and with everyone, and rightly so. I have resigned myself to death in service many times over, but now - "

Dean had an arm around Castiel and one hand in his hair. "Easy. Take it easy - "

"No, Dean, I can't 'take it easy'." He was gripping Dean tight enough to hurt, knuckles bumping his spine. "Now I've died and come back so many times, it's worse. This time I will die in _disgrace_." The way he said it had a special meaning in the same way _grace_ had a special meaning.

"Then get your mind on something else while you're still alive," said Dean, and tightened his fingers in Cas' hair. Cas lifted his head, and Dean kissed him.

Roughly, because he didn't tend to do it gently on his best of days, and by instinct, to match the violence of the way he was being held. Cas opened his mouth and Dean realized that Cas really had learned how to kiss - he'd had two teachers, after all.

Two good teachers.

In those little beams of ideas Dean had ever let through his mental blinds, he'd imagined Castiel would be… sort of passive. Right? Because he wouldn't know anything. And he'd have to be shown. And that right there had usually made Dean close up the blinds again on the whole thing, because he couldn't imagine himself - _showing_.

But as usual, his imagination and reality had pretty much nothing to do with each other. Cas wasn't passive. And he knew things. Some things.

He knew touch, he knew give and take. He didn't seem to know much about unbuttoning, and there was a ridiculous moment when Dean really thought he was going to leave that stupid tie on.

It wasn't like they got completely naked, even in the dark they weren't quite as bold as that. But between them they had enough skin bared that they could touch what most needed touching. Sliding his hands up Castiel's belly, his ribs, pressing both hands against his sternum, feeling the wild beating of his heart trapped in there, Dean kept feeling as though something was going to show up and stop him, stop them.

Nothing did, though.

"I want to do something for you that April did for me," Cas told him. "I loved it. I want to do it for you."

At least he didn't say, do it _to_ you.

"I don't know what it's called, though," Cas said. He sounded as serious as he ever did, but he was panting and it was… good to hear him sound like that.

"Well I hope it's what I think it is," said Dean.

It was.

At the first touch of tongue on him Dean jumped and made a strangled sound. Cas drew back.

"Did I hurt you? Is it bad?"

"Uh. Unless I say 'No,' 'Ow!' or 'Stop', assume it's good and you should keep going." Dean's voice was a little muffled: he had his hands over his face, even though it was dark. "Please."

There wasn't any thinking then for a little bit. They were the only ones in the room and he didn't have to be quiet, so he wasn't. Castiel _had Dean's cock in his mouth_ and Dean could have been making a lot of various jokey remarks if his brain hadn't already pretty much imploded.

He couldn't even say "God" or "oh my God" because, well, angel, _awkward_ , so he only made wordless sounds. Those got louder, too, because at some point he'd moved his hands away from his face to Cas' head.

Dean's scattered thoughts and the pleasure wracking his body and his own weird, contradictory but powerful feelings for Cas that were probably love, all spiraled and wove into a bright knot, a fire in the earth, a glyph that spelled the secret name of Dean's soul, written in his blood and touched by the angel's hand. And his _tongue_ \- !

"Ahh -- _H-ahhhhhhh - !"_ And he came, agonizingly hard, exploding into light, throbbing from the core and coming in his lover's mouth whether Cas was planning on that or not, because he couldn't let go of Cas' hair in order to give him a choice about it. Dean couldn't do anything but come, still crying out, but running out of breath well before he was done.

It pretty much had to be the best blowjob in the universe.

He finally let go of Cas's hair, and Cas released him, his breath loud, sawing at the darkness. Dean wished he could see his face, but not enough to turn on the light. But he could hear him panting, and feel him trembling.

"Come here," he said, and his voice was ragged.

"Where should I…?"

"Lie down again. But face me."

Cas crawled up beside him, and before he could ask any more questions Dean reached down.

For one thing, he was never going to call angels 'junkless' again. He might have meant it only metaphorically before, but now he wouldn't be able to say it without thinking about this: this hot smooth rod throbbing in his hand and Castiel clinging to him in the dark, hoarsely begging, "Dean, _Dean...!"_

It wasn't his usual hand, but still Dean knew a thing or two about performing this activity on himself. He did his best, which was well received, going by the variety of sounds Cas turned out to be able to make. The hard grip on Dean's shoulder and the ragged rhythm of thrusting his cock into Dean's hand was a crystal clear reminder that this strange being, his friend, now his lover, was in a human body for all his weird powers, and was experiencing human things. This was more a moment for dirty talk than for chanted Latin or (God forbid) _feelings_.

He changed his grip slightly, rippling his fingers down and up in a move he privately thought of as 'magic fingers' when he did it on his own. Cas' moaning made a key change: final verse before the big climax.

"That's right," he said, "you're gonna come for me, right? You're gonna come in my hand like a good boy."

Well, that last part was weird. But it did wonders for Cas because in the next moment he jerked taut and tried to say "Dean" but it came out as a strangled noise. Dean's hand was ready to catch it: the pulsing and hot splash on his hand was somehow arousing. Because it was Cas.

He let Cas calm down a little, then slipped out of the bed to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he came back and lay down and touched Cas, he found him sleeping.

Well, not surprising. And he'd find it a lot easier to sleep now himself. So he pulled the blanket from the other bed and covered them both, and Cas as the big spoon was pleasantly warm against Dean's back.

He slept. No knowing for how long. He never even heard the keys in the lock or the door opening. All he knew was a sudden rush of cold air and light and Sam looming anxiously in the doorway. Dean blinked. Beside him, Cas mumbled something incoherent, the top of his tousled head just visible from under the blanket.

"I'd say 'about time,'" said Sam, "but did it have to be _my_ bed?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Supernatural story. I'm new to the fandom: I caught up this year on all nine past seasons and am now in real time in season 10. So that's a lot of one show being crammed into a brain in a short space of time. [metatron finger to the forehead: the home game] 
> 
> I have many Sherlock stories in progress and I will return to working on them now, but I just couldn't resist trying these boys out. I obviously had a lot of fun with it, and as I've found writing brain-bashingly difficult lately, that's a pleasure to be enjoyed when possible. I've also been terribly remiss at answering comments, I'm very sorry about that. I absolutely read every one and I see the roundup of kudos every morning and they make me very happy. 
> 
> Also I have only read two or three Supernatural fics so far. I would deeply appreciate recs for any you think are "must-reads". I'm open to any pairing. I guess I am slashnostic!


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